


Somewhere I Belong

by Real_Life_Mermaid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Falling Angels, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Sick Castiel, Supportive Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-04-20 12:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14260668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Real_Life_Mermaid/pseuds/Real_Life_Mermaid
Summary: Castiel falls asleep and gets sick. Sam races to find an answer and Dean discovers "falling" has more than one definition.





	1. In which Castiel falls asleep

**Author's Note:**

> Set after Castiel's return in season 13. Inspired by the Linkin Park song "Somewhere I Belong". It always makes me think of Castiel!
> 
> I want to heal. I want to feel.  
> What I thought was never real.  
> I want to let go of the pain I felt so long.  
> I want to heal. I want to feel.  
> Like I’m close to something real.  
> I want to find something I’ve wanted all along.  
> Somewhere I belong.

Dean was sitting in the bunker library, several open browsing tabs deep into the web, searching for a case, when he heard it. Soft, gentle snoring. A devilish grin crept across his face. _What should I do to Sam this time? Spoon in the mouth? Hand in a bowl of water? Sign on the back?_ Dean loved nothing more than an opportunity to prank his little brother when Sam occasionally fell asleep at the library table while doing research. Glancing up over the lid of his laptop, his smirk was quickly replaced with confusion as he locked eyes with a very much awake Sam sporting an equally confused expression of his own. Another soft snore directed the Winchesters’ attention to the other end of the table to the only other person in the entire bunker.

Sure enough, there sat Castiel, hunched over in his chair, clearly asleep and snoring. It took Dean a moment to realize what was wrong with this picture. As if he had read Dean’s mind, Sam whispered across the table “Is he… asleep?” “I thought angels didn’t need sleep?” Dean whispered back with a hint of concern in his voice. “They don’t. I mean, unless…” Sam trailed off. Shutting his laptop, Dean quietly got out of his chair and edged towards the sleeping angel. “Cas?” he called softly. Castiel only continued to snore and if it wasn’t for the fact that this was highly unusual, Dean might have thought it was just the most adorable sound he’d ever heard. But his wonder was quickly subdued by fear. _Something is wrong… very wrong._ “Cas?” he called again, this time with a greater sense of urgency, placing his hand on Castiel’s shoulder and giving him a gentle squeeze.

All at once, Castiel awoke with a start, muttering something echonian and knocking the book he had been reading off the table. Castiel looked around, glassy eyed and dazed, reaching out for something solid. Dean grabbed Castiel’s arm with one hand, wrapping the other around the angel’s shoulders. “Cas?! Its ok, its ok, I’m here. You’re here in the bunker with us. You’re safe.” Squinting into the light, Castiel first glanced at Sam, then up at Dean. “Sam? Dean? What’s going on? What happened?” he said in a sleepy, gravely voice. “We were hoping you could tell us, man. You fell asleep!” Sam said. “Impossible.” Castiel replied. “Angels don’t….. don’t…… require…. Sleep…” he trailed off before the tell-tale snores began again. Dean gave Sam a look of panic to which Sam could only shake his head in amazement as if to say “what the hell?!”

Dean grabbed Castiel by the shoulders and shook him, a little harder than he meant to, but he needed answers. “Cas! Come on, now, talk to me!” Castiel once again jolted awake in a fit of confusion, trying to focus on Dean’s face which was now mere inches from his. “Dean? What happened?” he asked more clearly this time. “You fell asleep!” Dean answered. “Impossible, angels don’t require sleep.” Castiel repeated flatly. “Yeah, you said that already, but its true, you were sound asleep, snoring and everything!” Sam answered. Dean gripped Castiel’s shoulders, searching his face for any signs of some mysterious ailment. “How are you feeling right now?” Dean asked. Castiel started to answer but his words were immediately drowned by a heavy yawn. There was nothing at all funny about this situation, but Dean couldn’t help but almost chuckle at the extreme shock on Castiel’s face that followed. “Dean?! Why am I yawning?” “I don’t know, Cas, that’s what we’re trying to find out. How do you feel?” Castiel screwed up his face in concentration. “I feel…. Tired? Sore? I feel… something missing.”

Another yawn and Castiel suddenly started shivering. “Cold… I feel cold. Dean, why do I feel cold?” Castiel’s blue eyes were searching Dean’s face for an answer he just did not have. Dean struggled to find something to say before he was interrupted by Sam’s outstretched hand reaching for Castiel’s face. Dean let go of Castiel and watched as Sam placed the back of his hand against Castiel’s forehead. “Dean, he’s burning up, running a fever. The fatigue, the fever… it’s almost like he’s turning…” “…Human.” Castiel finished. “That’s what I’m feeling. My grace is fading.” Castiel met Dean’s gaze with an expression of sheer terror and panic. “Dean, my grace is fading!” As Castiel began to breathe heavily from panic, Dean knelt down and cradled Castiel’s face in his hands. He flinched slightly at the heat radiating from his skin. _He really is burning up._ “Cas? Hey, listen to me, we’re going to figure this out ok? But right now, you need to get some rest. You’re running a fever and this heavy suit and trench coat isn’t helping. Let’s get you some different clothes.” Castiel began shivering again and simply nodded, clearly too exhausted to put up an argument.

Dean turned to Sam. “Stay here and pull up everything you can find about angel grace. I’m going to get Cas changed and put to bed.” “He doesn’t have a bed in his room, remember?” Sam reminded him. “I’ll put him in my room then.” Sam gave Dean an understanding nod and moved to help Dean lift Castiel out of the chair. Throwing Castiel’s arm around his neck, Dean held on to Castiel to support him, waved Sam off to do research and slowly helped Castiel down the hallway of the bunker to Dean’s own room. Gently lowering Castiel down onto the foot of the bed, Dean then set about digging through his drawers for a simple cotton shirt. A sudden coughing fit behind him caused him to whip around, shirt in hand, to find Castiel now coughing heavily and sniffling. “Dean, what is happening?! I feel terrible.” Castiel croaked out harshly, loosening his tie and gasping for air. He was beginning to sweat heavily in between the chills. “Here, let me help” Dean said, untying the knot and draping the tie over the back of his desk chair. The trench coat, suit jacket, and remainder of Castiel’s familiar wardrobe was removed, folded and draped over the chair along with the tie.

Down to his boxers, Castiel was shivering violently and Dean was eager to get him dressed and tucked under the blankets. “Sorry, Cas, hang in there. Almost done.” Dean helped Castiel into a soft, faded ACDC t-shirt and guided him under the covers of the bed. As Castiel was settling in, Dean ducked into Sam’s room next door to steal the blanket from his bed as an extra measure. Dean tucked Castiel snugly under the layers of blankets, feeling otherwise helpless. He was torn between wanting to go see if Sam had found anything and wanting to stay here with his worsening angel. Before he could make a decision, Castiel brought one arm out from under the blankets to clutch at Dean’s hand. “Dean please… please stay? Just for a moment?” _Shit, he sounds so scared_ , Dean thought to himself. He managed to put on a smile and take Castiel’s hand with both of his, gave it a squeeze and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Of course, Cas. I’ll be right here.”

Shivering through another wave of fever chills, teeth chattering, Castiel squirmed uncomfortably in the bed. “I f-f-feel terrible, D-D-Dean! I’m h-h-hot and c-c-cold all at o-o-once. I can’t b-b-breathe through my n-n-nose and my c-c-chest HURTS!” he managed to choke out before erupting in another coughing fit. Dean helped him sit up to get through the coughing. Gasping through his last cough, Castiel leaned exhausted into Dean. Wrapping his arms around him, Dean could feel Castiel’s breath slowly steady out and eventually turn into wheezing snoring through congested sinuses as Castiel drifted back to sleep. Dean sighed. _Poor guy…_ if Dean wasn’t mistaken, Castiel seemed to have the flu. Or whatever angelic equivalent. _Did angels get the flu too?_ This was all very strange and Dean was becoming increasingly eager to talk to Sam.

Trying not to wake him, Dean began to slowly shift Castiel back to the pillows. But the movement caused a distressed whine from the still sleeping Castiel. _He finally looks comfortable,_ Dean thought to himself. He didn’t want to interrupt the peace so he resigned himself to staying. He quietly kicked off his shoes and scooted down into a more comfortable position on top of the covers with Castiel underneath, snoring into Dean’s chest, one arm thrown across his midsection. The heat from Castiel’s fever combined with the closeness was oddly comforting. Dean’s extreme concern for Castiel was giving him flashbacks of all the other times he thought he had lost the angel. _Especially this last time._ Dean had essentially lost the will to live. There was no way he could go through that again. Castiel meant too much to him (even if he was still to chicken shit to admit it out loud). Careful not to move too much, Dean fished his cell from his pocket and pulled up his text messages with Sam.

DW: hey, find anything?

Luckily, Dean didn’t need to wait long for a response.

SW: nothing we don’t already know about angel grace. He mentioned he could feel his grace fading. How is he now?

DW: he’s getting worse, like he has the flu.

SW: maybe he does?

DW: angels don’t get the flu jerkface

SW: unless he’s not full angel??? Jackass

DW: so he’s turning human? Just like that? All of the sudden?

SW: according to the lore, angels only lose their grace when they fall or if it’s physically removed somehow

DW: well we can rule out removed. But he’s not falling. He’s right here

SW: hold on, I’m not sure “falling” has one definition here. I found an old men of letters account of an angel whose grace faded away. It sounds similar to Cas’ symptoms. Hang on let me do some searching and I’ll let you know.

DW: whatever way to leave me hanging bitch

SW: … jerk

Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes. But he hoped whatever Sam had found would provide some answers. In the meantime, there was nothing more either of them could do except let Castiel rest. Before he knew it, Dean found himself yawning and struggling to stay awake. The warmth, comfort and rhythmic breathing of Castiel snuggled up to Dean’s side was mind numbingly soothing. Resting his cheek against the softness of Castiel’s dark hair, he only vaguely registered his phone buzzing with another message from Sam before he drifted off into a deep, peaceful slumber


	2. In which Sam makes a startling discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam dives into research to figure out what could be causing Castiel's illness and stumbles upon a startling Men of Letter report that just might give them the answers they need.

DW: Angels don’t get the flu jerkface

Sam gave an annoyed sigh and shook his head at the incoming message on his phone. “Unless he’s not full angel???” Sam typed back before pausing a moment and adding “Jackass” for good measure.

DW: So he’s turning human? Just like that? All of the sudden?

Sam had to admit to himself that this was all just incredibly odd. As soon as Dean took off with Castiel, a quick search of the newly digitalized Men of Letters archives had directed Sam to a box of old case files and a few books regarding angelic grace. It was a long shot, Sam knew, but it was a start. Taking a sip of his freshly made coffee for the large task ahead, he regrouped his thoughts. _Ok,_ he thought to himself, _symptoms include fading grace, fatigue and now some version of angelic flu?_ Case files and books now littered the library table as Sam had already quickly tossed aside anything containing information they already knew. Not knowing what else to say, Sam responded to Dean “according to the lore, angels only lose their grace when they fall or if it’s physically removed somehow.”

DW: well we can rule out removed. But he’s not falling. He’s right here.

 _Well, he’s not wrong,_ Sam thought. Taking another deep breath, Sam rubbed his hands on his face, and took another sip of coffee. It could be a long night and time was of essence. While Sam knew Dean would take good care of Castiel in the meantime, that didn’t stop him from being highly concerned for their friend. _Well... more than friend in Dean’s case if he ever got around to coming out of his closet of denial._ Sam scoffed to himself before something new caught his eye: a name he had not heard before, Sariel, the fallen watcher. _Fallen… now there’s the word I’m looking for._ Sam pulled out the file, cleared a space on the library table and opened it up.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Men of Letters Case File #2958104

August 24, 1949

Re: Sariel, the fallen watcher, angel of the earth

Summary: account of the fall of the angel Sariel and the fading of angel grace.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 _Jackpot!_ Sam turned back to his phone, furiously typing. “hold on, I’m not sure ‘falling’ has one definition here. I found an old Men of Letters account of an angel whose grace faded away. It sounds similar to Cas’ symptoms. Hang on let me do some searching and I’ll let you know.”

DW: whatever way to leave me hanging bitch

Sam rolled his eyes, typing back “…jerk” before turning his phone screen off. He picked up the file and continued reading:

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meaning “Prince of God,” Sariel is one of the seven holy angels of the earth. Primordial in his powers, the book of Enoch describes Sariel as one of the leaders of angels who lusted after the daughters of men, enticing women and leading men astray ( _basically Dean’s patron saint, Sam chuckled inwardly_ ). Sariel is also said to have taught humans about the lunar cycle. Sariel has seemingly gone by many other names in numerous Judaic texts including Suriel, Seriel, Sauriel, Surya, Sarakiel and, within the more recently discovered Dead Sea Scrolls, Suriyel.

Upon the discovery of the first scrolls in 1946, my partner and I arranged a meeting with our British colleagues ( _ugh… posh assholes…_ ) to view these newly unearthed biblical texts to assist with their translations and gather any new information that would be useful in our work. As of the writing of this report, the excavation of the Qumran Caves is still ongoing, with more documents being discovered. While the Dead Sea Scrolls have, thus far, yielded a wealth of new information regarding angelic lore, the story of Sariel is a fascinating case.

Rare and ancient spells have previously been found that utilize angel feathers and/or grace. Due to these spells, we know they once had a presence on earth, but as far as we now know, this presence is either exceedingly intermittent or entirely non-existent ( _oh how things have changed..._ ). An angel of the earth, however, could still be here. The prospect of finding and talking to a living angel was exciting! The Men of Letters were eager to gain answers to their questions regarding Sariel’s activities and hopefully, in the process, gain further insight on the angels, their presence, their weapons, and more importantly, their power. After a year-long journey, Sariel was finally found.

Sariel, or Alessandro as he called himself, was found lonely and desolate within an assisted living institute in the sleepy seaside town of Alassio, Italy. A frail 102 year old man, he was a stark contrast from the all-powerful being described in numerous biblical texts. Mortal and near death, Sariel was prepared to take the truth of his past to the grave. However, my partner and I were able to persuade him that we knew who he was. We presented all the evidence and in the end, he could no longer deny who he once was. He then told his story for the second and last time.

An angel stationed on earth for millions of years, Sariel was there from the beginning. He saw the formation of our seas, the movement of continents, the rise and fall of species. But being stationed on earth when the humans were created was his downfall. He simply could not get enough of them. It would seem that previous texts in the book of Enoch was truthful in its description of Sariel. For thousands of years, he pursued human women and led men astray, eventually taking pity on them and teaching them the ways of the lunar cycle and celestial knowledge of the stars.

In 1847, Sariel arrived in Alassio, where he met Catalina. After his millions of years roaming the earth, Sariel found himself unwilling to leave her side. He describes it as a longing need, as a profound and unmistakable bond between them. Only to Catalina did Sariel reveal the truth of who he really was. Sariel wanted to give up his powers for her, to become a mortal being, but found himself physically incapable of doing so. Catalina thought herself unworthy of his love and did not want him to give up his powers for her. Because of this, she refused to love him back and that broke Sariel’s heart. However, being unwilling to part with her, he stayed and waited.

Until one day, after a particularly romantic evening, Sariel suddenly found himself feeling off. For the first time in his millions of years of existence, he found himself falling asleep in the arms of his one true love. He awoke some time later feeling feverish. He described feeling his grace fading quickly. Sariel spent the next several days being cared for by Catalina. When his fever finally broke, he was mortal, completely without his power and grace. Catalina, fearing she was losing him, finally confessed her love. Sariel, the angel, ceased to be and Alessandro was born. The two were married shortly after and spent the next 75 years in bliss until she passed away in 1932.

Alessandro’s grace seemed to have simply faded away as the result of his willingness to sacrifice it for love. But only when Catalina reciprocated that love did the sacrifice suddenly take hold. Unfortunately, this story was all we were able to gather, as talking about Catalina seemed to strengthen his resolve to be reunited with her. He quietly passed away in his sleep in the early morning hours of August 20, 1949, holding a picture of her over his heart. We knew angels could unwillingly fall from grace by being cast out of heaven. However, it seems that love, a potent emotion used in numerous spells, also has the power to cause an angel to fall from grace, only willingly. The illness could have been the result of his sudden exposure to human viruses he had previously been immune to. More studies are needed and the quest continues to search for any earth-bound angels to learn more of their ways. Sariel was one of 7 angels of the earth. Efforts are underway to locate the other 6.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flipping over the last page of the report, Sam found a photo in the file. A man and a woman, looking to be in their 60’s were standing side by side on a beautiful beach and gazing into each other’s eyes, happy and very much in love. Gingerly turning it over, Sam found the words “Alessandro e Catalina, Alassio Italia, Giugno 1902.”

Sam sat speechless for a moment as the weight of realization came crashing down on him. Knowing his brother all too well, he knew this was something Dean needed to be very carefully eased into. Picking up his phone, he pulled up his messages. Hesitantly, he typed in, “Dean, if you can, please come out and meet me in the library. I found something but we need to talk. You need to see this for yourself.”

10 minutes later, Dean had still not responded. _That’s odd, I hope everything is ok_. Sam stared at his phone restlessly for another minute before deciding to go check on his brother and Castiel. Quickly working his way down the hallway, worst-case scenarios running through his mind, he came upon the closed door of the elder Winchester’s room. “Dean?” he called, lightly rapping on the door with his knuckle. “Cas? Everything ok?” Silence. Sam tried knocking again, a little louder this time. “Dean? Are you ok? I’m coming in.” Twisting the door knob, Sam slowly opened the door. “Dean?” he called again, peeking around the door.

There, he found Dean and Castiel curled up together on the bed, Dean on top of the covers ( _MY covers by the way… freaking thief_ ) and Castiel underneath, arms intertwined and both sound asleep. Sam couldn’t help but smile and give a small huff of satisfaction. _About time, already._ They both looked so peaceful for once that Sam couldn’t bring himself to wake Dean and disturb this serene scene. _It can wait,_ Sam thought to himself. He walked over to the desktop lamp and turned it off, enveloping the sleeping pair in soft darkness. Backing out of the room, Sam quietly shut the door and headed back to the library to clean up the files and prepare himself for the conversation he would need to have later.


	3. In which Dean has a nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean faces his fear of losing Castiel and finds out what Sam has discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter has been so long in the making. Writers block is strong!

_*squish*_

_It was a sound Dean knew he would never forget. The sound of Castiel’s own blade, wielded by Lucifer, suddenly bursting through the angel’s chest._

_“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” It had all happened so fast. The blade, the bright blue/white light, Castiel slumping to the ground._

_Catching the angel as he fell, Dean gently lowered him to the ground, everything else around him suddenly forgotten and gone. Dean knelt in the dirt on the shore of that lake, cradling Castiel against his chest, murmuring a string of ‘no no no no no.’ Hot tears spilled out his eyes and down his cheeks as Castiel lay dying in his arms. Castiel gave a couple of wet, chest rattling coughs before turning his head to look at Dean. To Dean’s horror, Castiel’s normally celestial blue eyes were bloodshot and quickly fading into a dull grey. “Dean,” Castiel managed to choke out, blood now oozing out of his mouth. “I’m here, Cas. I’m right here. Please stay with me. Please… please…” Castiel managed to bring his arm forward to clutch at Dean’s shirt with a weak fist. Panicking, Dean grabbed at Castiel tighter, pleading through tears. “Cas, please, I can’t lose you!” “Dean,” Castiel spat out more forcefully before another wet, rattling cough settled in. Blood spewed out of his mouth with each cough. No… no something isn’t right. This isn’t how it happened._

_Suddenly, Dean remembered. He remembered when he had lost Castiel. There was no prolonged death, no heartfelt goodbyes. He was there and then he was gone. Dean never had the chance to tell him…_

_Before he could finish his train of thought, Dean felt the front of his shirt being grabbed with unexpected force, shaking him violently._

“DEAN!”

 

Dean jolted awake in a panic, sweating profusely and gasping for breath. In the darkness, he could still hear that wet, rattling cough, which left Dean in an elevated state of panic and confusion as his eyes began to focus and his mind cleared. He could feel movement next to him with each cough. Finally, it settled and he heard the best sound in the world: Castiel’s very-much-alive voice gently calling out to him. “Dean? Are you ok?”

Dean sighed in relief, taking a deep breath and calming his panic. His darkened bedroom slowly came into focus as his eyes adjusted. Dean glanced over, his green eyes meeting tired blue ones directly in front of his own face. “Cas?” “Are you ok Dean?” Castiel asked again. “You were having a nightmare.” Dean propped himself up on his elbows as Castiel gave another shaky cough. _Right, poor guy is sick,_ Dean remembered. “Hey, Cas. Sorry I woke you. Did you at least get some sleep? How do you feel?” He put his hand on Castiel’s forehead. _He’s still feverish_. “I still feel terrible but I did get some sleep,” Castiel paused before adding in a small voice, “Thank you for staying with me, Dean.” Dean gave a slight smile and was about to lie back down when Dean’s bedroom door suddenly few open, flooding the room with light from the hall and startling the both of them.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Sam was shouting as he strode into the room in a hurry, clicking on the bedroom light. “Jesus Sam, what the hell?! Ever heard of knocking!” Dean yelled, throwing a spare pillow at his little brother. Sam dodged the pillow and shot his patented bitch face at Dean. “I heard yelling, Dean. All the way from the library. What happened?” “Dean was having a nightmare.” Castiel answered before Dean could make something up. Sam’s expression immediately changed from hunter-on-edge to mischievous little brother. _God damn it…_ Dean sighed warily, pinching the bridge of his nose. _Oh Sam is going to have a field day…_

“A _nightmare_ , huh? As in, you were _asleep_? With Cas? In the same bed? Did you share a pillow too?” The smugness oozing in Sam’s voice was strong enough that Dean could feel an uncontrollable blush creeping up his neck and into his face. _Great… just great. Add more fuel to the fire, thanks, meat suit_. Glaring at his little brother who was wearing the most arrogant and self-satisfied expression Dean had ever seen, he opened his mouth to say something witty, only to resign to an embarrassed mumble of “Shut up, Sam,” before crawling off the bed. Castiel clearly didn’t understand and was sporting his usual confused squinty eyed head tilt. “Whatever, Dean. What – or WHO – you do in your own bed is your own business.” Sam winked at Castiel, which only seemed to confuse him even more. Dean wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole disappear. “But if you have a minute, Dean, I do need to talk to you. It’s kind of important.” Sam’s sudden 180 change in tone threw Dean for a loop. _Maybe he found some answer’s to Cas’ mystery illness?_ Whatever it was, he knew by Sam’s tone that it really was important. “Uh… ok yeah, give me a minute, I’ll meet you in the library,” he answered. Sam nodded once and back out the door, closing it behind him.

Once Sam was gone, Dean turned back to Castiel, who was still clearly completely lost on the brotherly banter. “What was that all about? I would think Sam would have been more concerned about you having a nightmare.” Dean gave a resigned chuckle. “Nevermind Cas, it’s a brother thing.” Turning to Castiel and sitting down next to him on the bed, Dean continued, “Listen, I’m going to go talk with Sam. I’m also going to get you some medicine, food and fluids. In the meantime, I want you to try to get some of this chest congestion cleared with a steamy shower. Go into the bathroom and take a long, hot shower, put on some fresh clothes, and I’ll meet you back here a little bit later.” Castiel simply nodded and continued to gaze at Dean’s face. In his post-panic relief, Dean couldn’t help but bring his hand up to brush back the hair plastered to Castiel’s fever-induced sweaty forehead. Castiel closed his eyes at the touch, which prompted Dean to trail his fingers gently down the side of the sick angel’s face before resting the palm of his hand against his cheek.

Castiel opened his eyes to once again meet Dean’s. “What did you dream about?” Castiel asked softly. Dean sighed heavily, moving his hand away, trying to summon up his nightmare. “You. That day by the lake. When Lucifer…” Dean trailed off, finding himself unable to continue. Castiel brought his own hand up from under the covers to place it over Dean’s arm. “I’m here, Dean.” Castiel whispered. Dean smiled again, “I know, Cas. And I’m glad.” _Come on, Dean, don’t chicken out. Just do it. Just tell him._ Dean’s heart begin pounding in his chest as he swallowed hard and he found himself inching forward towards Castiel’s face. Licking his lips and swallowing hard he could hear his own heart racing in his ears and could tell that Castiel was just as nervous as he was, mere inches away from what he had finally – FINALLY – wanted for so long.

Suddenly, Castiel scrunched up his face and jerked his head away from Dean, coughing uncontrollably with that thick, wet cough, wheezing through the aftermath and reaching over to the nightstand for tissues. _Crap… Get it together, Winchester. Way to put the moves on a flu victim. Such an idiot…_ Dean set about rubbing Castiel’s back to ease him through the pain that must come with that nasty sounding cough. Heaving another sigh, he took it as a sign. Dean got up off the bed, rummaged around in his drawers for clean clothes and set them neatly at the foot of the bed. “I’m, uh…. I’m going to go talk to Sam now.” Dean said awkwardly, inching towards the door, unable to look Castiel in the eye. “You go take that shower and, uh, I’ll bring you some grub in a little bit. Just… ok… uh, feel better?” and with that, Dean made a hasty exit. Outside in the hallway, it was all Dean could to do not slam his face into the wall. _Oh god, what the hell was that?!_ Burying his face in his hands, he quickly took a moment to compose himself before trudging off down the hallway in search of Sam.

Dean found Sam sitting in the library, a single file spread out on the table in front of him and a full glass of whiskey in the empty space opposite, clearly meant for Dean. _Oh shit, that can’t be good_. Taking the seat opposite Sam, Dean started, “Look, Sam, seriously, I only fell asleep for like a minute, it wasn’t…” but Sam cut his older brother off. “I know, Dean. And for the record, it wasn’t just a minute. You and Cas have been asleep for more than an hour.” Dean was confused by this. “Wait, how do you…?” “I came to check on you more than an hour ago and the two of you were fast asleep and snoring.” Sam replied with a secretive smile. “What?! The hell was all the teasing for then?” Sam chuckled at that, “Come on, Dean. I’m your brother. Comes with the territory.”

Dean clamored for something to say but before he could, Sam continued, “Anyways, I didn’t call you out here to make fun of you. I wanted to show you this.” Sam pushed the open file toward Dean, who flipped it around and began reading. “Sariel, the fallen watcher? Who is this guy and what’s he got to do with Cas?” “Just… read the whole thing. Slowly and carefully ok Dean?” Dean looked up to find Sam starting at him intently, waiting for an answer. “Yeah, fine, ok.” Sam nodded once, then stood up to leave. “Wait, where are you going?” Dean asked. Sam turned back to Dean, “I’m going to go to the kitchen and make some food for Cas and see what kind of meds we have around here. You just… stay. Read.” With another nod, Sam headed towards the kitchen, leaving Dean alone with the file.

 _Well that REALLY can’t be good,_ Dean thought to himself. Taking a swig of whiskey, he picked up the file in front of him and began to read.

It took several minutes for Dean to read through the file. Once. Twice, just to make sure he understood.

_Woah…_

Holding the faded photograph in one hand and a now empty whiskey glass in the other, Dean was staring slack-jawed at the file in front of him, still trying to wrap his mind around what he just read.

_WOAH._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so what was supposed to be a 2 chapter fluff has turned into at least a 4 chapter slow burn. I'm sorry!!!! Next coming soon!


	4. In which Sam is the witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam makes a sandwich and witnesses something incredible.

In the kitchen, Sam loaded up a tray with Castiel’s favorite peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a cup of chamomile tea and some cold meds he managed to dig out of a first aid box. _Yeah ok they were probably expired but it’s all they had right now._ Sam made a mental note to go on a grocery run a little later. Balancing everything on the tray, Sam first peeked around the hallway corner to quietly check on Dean, who was already more than halfway through that glass of whiskey and fully focused on the file in front of him. _At least he seems to be reading it thoroughly_ , he thought before turning around and carefully making his way down the hall towards Dean’s room. Finding the door open, he knocked on the door frame. Castiel was in the process of pulling on one of Dean’s faded t-shirts, hair still wet from the shower and sticking out in every direction.

“Hey Cas. I brought you some food, tea and medicine.” “Oh, t-thank you, S-s-sam,” Castiel answered, shivering in his t-shirt and boxers. Sam set the tray down on Dean’s desk. “Here, come on, let’s get you back under the covers.” Sam fluffed some pillows, helping Castiel prop himself up into a sitting position under the warmth of the blankets. Once the angel was all tucked in, Sam brought the tray over and sat down on the bed, balancing the tray on Castiel’s lap. “I made you a pb&j. But take the pills first. Careful with the tea, it’s still hot.” Picking up the tea, Castiel popped the pills into his mouth and took a long sip, swallowing them down. “Thank you, Sam. Truly.” “Of course, Cas. Both Dean and I are very worried about you. You’re probably tired of being asked but… how do you feel?” Castiel took a bite of the sandwich, closing his eyes as he chewed, almost as if he was savoring it.

After a moment, he swallowed the bite and responded, “I think the more appropriate question at this point would be WHAT do I feel.” Confused, Sam opened his mouth to ask but Castiel interrupted him with the answer: “EVERYTHING. I feel everything, Sam. Hot and cold, textures, emotions, pain. This sandwich and this tea no longer taste like molecules. My chest hurts, I can barely breathe and I am tired.” Castiel dropped the sandwich back onto the plate in his lap, looking frustrated. “But, how I feel…” Castiel buried his face in his hands. Sam put his hand on the angel’s shoulder. “It’s your grace isn’t it? It’s gone?” Castiel sniffled and looked back up at Sam with tears in his eyes. “Not completely,” he answered with a strained voice as the tears began to roll down his face. “But there isn’t much left and I can feel it slowly trickling out, like sand through an hour glass. I don’t know what to do, Sam. I hate this!”

At that, Castiel erupted into another coughing fit and Sam quickly moved the tray over to the night stand. “Cas, its, ok, you know Dean and I are here for you.” “Sam, you don’t understand!” Castiel replied after his coughing died back down. “I’ll be an angel turned human. I’m not welcome in heaven, I’d be a human with celestial knowledge. I…” Sam leaned in to encourage Castiel to continue. The angel leaned heavily against the headboard, tears still flowing. “I came to earth to feel like I’m close to something real. To let go of this pain I have felt for so long. And to find something I’ve wanted – yearned for - all this time.” Castiel trailed off to a whisper, sniffling and wiping the tears from his face. “But now, I’ll never find it.” “Find what, Cas?” Sam asked. “Somewhere I belong,” Castiel responded, looking Sam in the eyes.

To Sam, Castiel was family, and to think that he didn’t feel like he could call the bunker – call Sam and Dean – his home where he felt loved and belonging broke Sam’s heart. “Cas, that is not true. You always have and always will have a home with Dean and I. You belong here, with us!” Without missing a beat, Castiel responded with “I’m not so sure Dean thinks so.” “What? Why would you say that?” _Damn it, Dean, what did you do?_

“I love him, Sam.”

And there it was. Sam knew it. Oh, yes, Sam has known for 9 god damned years watching Castiel, angel of the lord, and Dean ‘strictly a ladies man’ Winchester dance around each other like an old married couple. And yet… hearing Castiel finally say it out loud still somehow left him breathless. It touched him to his very core. “Cas…” he started, but the angel continued. “I have rebelled against heaven for him, died for him, and would have gladly traded celestial life to stay here with him. With both of you. But…” Castiel trailed off, choking back another cough. “But Dean doesn’t feel the same and it seems like every time I try to show him what I would do for him, he pushes me away. Now it seems I’m somehow becoming human with nowhere to go and nothing to show for it. I don’t know what is happening to me, Sam.” Castiel was now looking at him very intently, as if silently begging for Sam to say something.

“Cas…” Sam began, “when you died, it was unfathomable. We both grieved heavily. But Dean… your death, this death in particular, changed him. Cas, he had lost the will to live. Actually killed himself at one point. He hit rock bottom.” Castiel’s face remain unchanged and clearly unconvinced. Sam opened his mouth to continue when a small voice floated in from the hallway. “He’s right, you know.” Sam whipped around in time to find Dean stepping into the doorway, holding the file in both hands. “Sam is right. About everything.” Sam watched as Dean slowly crossed the room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed on Castiel’s other side. “You, on the other hand, could not be more wrong, Cas,” he continued. “I – WE – have had to watch you die so many times. Each time took a little piece of me with it because each and every time was all my fault.”

“Dean,” both Sam and Castiel protested in unison but Dean raised his hand to stop them. “I failed to protect you, just as I’m failing you right now.” “What do you mean, Dean?” Castiel asked weakly. Sam had an idea where this was going. Dean held up the file and placed it gently in Castiel’s lap. “Cas, this whole illness and you losing your grace,” Dean’s voice suddenly began to crack. “It’s all my fault. I couldn’t help it. I was weak. I… I am so sorry.” Castiel continued to look at Dean in confusion, gingerly picking up the file in his lap and opening it up. “Sariel… I know that name,” he said. “But I thought he was dead.” “He is now,” answered Sam. “He gave up his grace willingly for the love of a human named Catalina. He died of old age in 1949.” Sam fished out the photo in the back of the file and handed it to Castiel. Sam glanced over at Dean who was hanging his head almost in shame.

After a moment of silence, Castiel finally spoke up in a soft voice, full of awe. “I always thought it was a myth, a story,” he began. “That an angel had the ability to willingly give up their grace and fall from heaven to walk the earth as one of my Father’s creations. To live and die as a human.” Castiel picked up the file and began reading as he continued. “But the magic, the sheer power that would take is immense and I never thought it possible.” Sam sat in silence as Castiel read, watching his face for the inevitable reaction. _Wait for it…_ All at once, Castiel give a soft gasp, looking up at Dean, who still sat, head hanging, staring at his hands in his lap. “Dean,” Castiel called out, putting a hand on Dean’s arm. Dean looked up to meet Castiel’s gaze. Sam was powerless to stop the grin that crept across his face in anticipation. _Wait… wait…_ “Dean,” Castiel continued. “Is it true? Do… do you…”

In a breathless whisper, Dean responded, “Yeah… yeah Cas, I do.” _There it is, finally._ Sam felt like he was intruding on this intimate moment but at the same time, he was grateful to have witnessed it. His stupid brother and his stupid best friend and their stupid beautiful smiles that lit up the room. It was all just so warm and exquisite. But before Sam could get up to leave and give them their privacy, Castiel’s eyes suddenly rolled into the back of his head. Without warning, the angel began seizing, sending the file on his lap flying and sending Dean and Sam into a panic. “Cas?! Castiel?! SAM WHAT IS GOING ON?!” Dean shouted, holding onto Castiel’s arms. Sam grabbed his legs and the two of them held on for dear life to keep Castiel from falling off the bed and onto the hard floor. After what was only seconds but felt like years, the seizing stopped and an unconscious Castiel went limp.

Suddenly, a strange bluish white light manifested around Castiel’s splayed body. Both Sam and Dean let go and backed away. A strange shadow was also appearing from behind Castiel’s chest, creeping out across the bed on either side. _Wings. Holy shit, Castiel’s wings._ The jet black wings spread about in all their fullness, draped down the bed and across the floor. The light steadily grew brighter until Sam and Dean had to shield their eyes against it. With a loud boom, the wings and light burst out in a shock wave strong enough to knock Sam and Dean into the wall. When Sam unshielded his eyes, he saw the last remaining sparks of light around Castiel’s body fizzle out and disappear. Everything went dead silent. “Cas?” Dean spoke first, jumping up off the floor where the shock wave sent him and rushing to Castiel’s side. Sam stood and approached more slowly, holding his breath. _Was that supposed to happen?!_

Echoing Sam’s thoughts, Dean turned to shout at him. “What the hell was that Sam?! What happened?” Sam could only shake his head in speechless silence. Dean turned back to Castiel, hands on his face and shaking him. “Cas, can you hear me?! Come on Cas, wake up, please wake up.” Upon reaching Castiel’s side, Sam thought he looked different. His skin was no longer flushed and red with fever. He reached out and put a hand on Castiel’s forehead, giving a sigh of relief. “Dean, his fever is gone! I thing we just witnessed the remainder of Cas’ grace leaving. He’s human now.” “There was nothing in the file about that kind of reaction!” Dean continued to shout, still panicking. Sam didn’t have an answer and could only watch as Dean continued to try to wake Castiel. With a light cough, Castiel began to stir, eyes fluttering open to look at Dean who was still cradling Castiel’s face.

“Hello, Dean,” he said weakly. Dean broke into a tear filled smile, stroking Castiel’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Hey, Cas,” he replied. "What did you do? Did you do this for me?" "Dean, it's always been you," Castiel said softly. "I chose this. I would rather live a mortal life with you and an infinite one without. But I didn't know you returning that love would be powerful enough to let me fall. Thank you, Dean." he continued tearfully before Dean leaned down to plant his lips on the newly human Castiel.

Sam quietly backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him and reveling in the incredible thing that just happened. Though the Men of Letters report was missing some details. Sam made his way back to the library, stopping by the kitchen first for a beer. At the library table, he set up his laptop and pulled open a new word document. Thinking for a moment, he began to type.

Men of Letters Case File #8829645

January 8, 2018

Re: Castiel, angel of Thursday, warrior of God

Summary: account of the angel Castiel falling from grace for the love of a human.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several days later, Castiel woke with a yawn and a stretch. Reaching out with his arms, Castiel felt around for the warm body he had fallen asleep next to every night for the last several nights as he continued to recover from his illness. However, Dean was nowhere to be found. Sitting up, Castiel stretched again, smiling at the new robe draped across the desk chair that Dean had gotten for him yesterday. Putting it on, he set off down the hallway in search of the brothers, finding them in their usual places in the library. They were whispering to each other when Castiel entered. The moment they spotted him, they abruptly stopped and Dean pushed a plate hastily across the table. _That was odd._ “Cas! Hey you’re up!” Sam said. Dean got up to take Castiel by the hand and guide him to the library table. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked. Castiel smiled at him, letting him lead. “Much better, Dean, thank you.”

Castiel leaned in to peck a kiss on Dean’s cheek before sitting down in the chair Dean had pulled for him. In front of him was the plate that Castiel could now see contained his favorite peanut butter and jelly sandwich. With Dean seated on one side and Sam on the other, Castiel’s heart swelled with newfound human emotion and love for this little family of his. Castiel picked up the sandwich and began eating, savoring the flavor before Sam spoke up. “Cas, do you remember a few days ago when you told me that you came to earth to find something you’ve wanted more than anything, something you believed in that moment that you would never find?” Castiel swallowed the bite he had been chewing and nodded at the not-so-fond memory. Dean reached forward and put his hand on Castiel’s arm. “Hey,” he said, getting Castiel’s attention. “I hope you know that you have found it here. With me. With us.” Dean continued, grabbing the plate in front of castiel and moving it to the side. "I love you, Castiel."

There, under the plate, were the roughly carved initials that Sam and Dean had etched into the table some time ago. S.W. and D.W. But underneath, was a third, freshly hewn set: C.W.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter coming soon!!


End file.
